


Ain't No O'Driscoll

by ShipperTrash140109



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Drinking, First Kiss, First Time, Handcuffs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Tags Are Hard, bill williamson being a dick, sean a thot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:16:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipperTrash140109/pseuds/ShipperTrash140109
Summary: “Listen mister- now I know you all like to think I’m an O’Driscoll but I’m not! I’m a Duffy- a Duffy! I don’t care about your old neighbour, and I don’t care about any of yous likin’ me- but you’re being a horse’s ass and I don’t think I deserve it, Mr Sean, I really don’t.”“A Duffy” Kieran states firmly, swallowing thickly before he’s shuffling away- unnerved by the usually unpredictable man’s sedation during the confrontation. Sean watches him leave, watches how his clothes that more resemble rags cling to him in the heat. A Duffy.Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to be.





	Ain't No O'Driscoll

**Author's Note:**

> ayo this has been a WIP for a while and i finally got it finished!! this is much longer than most of my oneshots, as ive been wanting to explore this pairing for a while. please feel free to let me know what you think of the fic/the ship in the comments, it would be greatly appreciated!!

The majority of the gang was leaving camp today. The men were headed for a rather significant robbery- a train or some shit. Fuckin Arthur Morgan had decided to mention Sean’s _accidental _fuck up at the last train heist, and Dutch had ruled that ‘we already got enough wildcards son, you have the vital job of protecting Kieran and Cain… can you do that for me, son?’ in that annoying pompous fucking voice he had. And Sean, like a spineless twat, had nodded his head and slunk off to a quiet part of camp away from where everyone was getting ready.

Uncle had decided this would be a greatest time as ever to take the girls and Jack (also Pearson because he needed some supplies) for a day out to Valentine (A trip that would take the better part of a day), even able to convince Grimshaw, the old sour bat, to join them. Swanson had even fucked off, probably to drown in liquor and gambling.

Sean was mad, very fuckin ticked off. He’d been left babysitting horse boy and an actual mutt.

“Hey buddy… got you some burdock root ointment for that nasty scratch you been nursin’”

Given that there weren’t much else to do, Sean was watching Kieran, again. He was trying not to make a habit of it (even when there were people in camp), but like most of his plans, this one weren’t working much either. It wasn’t even because he found Kieran eye-catching- because he really wasn’t when compared to the others in camp. He didn’t have huge, lovely breasts like Karen did, he didn’t have confidence or a face that made Sean hard like Arthur did. He didn’t have any of John’s sharp attitude, Micah’s slimy ability to kiss up to someone until for a moment they thought he was being genuine. Kieran was the horse boy.

And well, that just didn’t satisfy Sean, at all.

He’s nursing a bottle of whiskey, Cain on the patch of grass next to his chair, busily chomping on a bone that he no doubt scored from Pearson. Kieran hadn’t moved from where he was grooming Branwen, possibly the most spoilt horse in camp, he looked so satisfied with this meagre task. His face was still a bit bruised from where Sean had headbutt him in a poor attempt to try and stir something in him, find something interesting to latch onto. Sean swore he only had two moods- nervous and slightly less nervous- and that second one only came around when he was with the horses.

Sean bit hard into the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brow a moment before tossing the bottle aside and surging up onto his feet, he didn’t need to waste his whole day thinking about horse boy. So, like a good, contributing member of camp, he decided to chop some wood, his arms aching and his coat and shirt soon abandoned, suspenders hanging limp down his sides. For a moment he forgot about Kieran, forgot about how much he’d like to punch both Dutch and Arthurs faces in for working together to keep him stuck here all day.

His pale skin was quick to grow warm. It was hot down here, hot and humid like hell, and before long he was dripping with sweat, sweat that did bugger all to cool him down. He didn’t worry too much about the sun on his skin, lord knows he needed some colour. Irish blood was good for many things, but not looking like a vampire from tales of old was not one of those blessings.

At least nobody could say he was lazy when they got back, nobody would have to chop wood for at least a couple days with how much Sean was getting through using nothing but residual anger and boredom.

When the sun grew much too strong, and a burn turned into an acute sting, Sean swung the axe back into the stump, rolling his aching shoulders as he straightened his back, he found his gaze sliding to Kieran. He’d been expecting the runt to still be completely occupied by his horse, but instead found the younger mans gaze right on Sean himself, seemingly completely captivated by the pale, sweaty torso of another man.

Now that was interesting.

“Whatcha lookin at O’Driscoll?” He called out, and Kieran visibly jumped before slinking away to hide behind the horses. He hummed to himself, moving to one of the few wash basins scattered around camp to wash his face off and cool his burning skin, he couldn’t help the little gasp of relief as the shaded and therefore cool water met his hot skin, dripping cold tracks down his back and chest. Cain watched him, his tail wagging lazily, a mood that shifted quickly into frenzied excitement when Sean flicked water at him. He would’ve gone for a dip in the lake, but the murky bottom made him a bit weary of such an activity.

He cupped the water in his hands, flicking it up and over his head to try and get some over his shoulders and down his back, sliding slick palms over the reddened skin, he’d need to check out their medicine supplies in case it burns.

“Mr Macguire?” the sudden sound of horse boy’s voice made Sean almost jump out of his skin, yelping out a ‘fuck’ as he stumbled back, almost stepping on Cain in the process. It seemed the other man must’ve been already on edge, as the sudden jerk and panic of Sean’s movements had made him flinch back, clutching whatever was in his hands tight.

“W-what do you wan’? Scare a man half to death” the second part was mostly to himself, huffed under his breath as he pushed his hair out of his face with a still wet palm.

Kieran took a moment to gather himself, swallowing thickly a couple times before he worked up the nerve to speak. He held out a tin of something, and Sean eyed both the tin and the other man carefully. “I see you’re- you’re uh, lookin a bit red there mister… I got some special ointment that I-I use on the horses when they burn… couldn’t hurt to try it” Kieran stammered over his words, no doubt not too keen on dealing with the man that had lost his temper with the former O’Driscoll multiple times before.

“Are you calling me a horse?”

Kieran paled a moment, it was almost too easy. Kieran was already launching into a wave of apologies when Sean finally decided he was done with the most pathetic man with two balls on planet earth, and promptly told him to make like a tree and leaf, and to take his horse medicine with him. He could tell Kieran was disappointed with the interaction, but he didn’t argue before retreating to the scout campfire.

Sean busied himself with doing nothing, situating himself carefully on a chair in the meagre bit of shade left in camp on a hot Rhodes day such as this, a beer that was much too warm to be properly enjoyed regularly making its way to his lips and back to hanging by his side over and over again. He was surprised that camp was still so barren, even Cain was hiding somewhere- most likely to escape the heat and the two irritated men left in camp.

Sean is seconds from dozing off in the warm, moist air when he’s woken by the sound of shuffling feet and loud, huffing breaths. He’s pleasantly sweat-stuck to the chair and the air was sweetly suffocating him into a dreamless sleep. Important word being ‘was.’

Because now Kieran’s standing to the side of him, shaking with his fists clenched by his thighs, Sean curls his lip and opens his mouth to scold him for waking him up when one of the fists unfurls and turns into a pointed finger inches from his face.

“Listen mister- now I know you all like to think I’m an O’Driscoll but I’m not! I’m a Duffy- a Duffy! I don’t care about your old neighbour, and I don’t care about any of yous likin’ me- but you’re being a horse’s ass and I don’t think I deserve it, Mr Sean, I really don’t.”

The air is too stifling to get all worked up right now, so Sean just stares at him, shocked and a little bit impressed at the usually submissive male’s words. He swallows a tongueful of dryness and lets his eyes skirt around the man for a moment. “A Duffy…” he repeats, feeling the back of his neck prickle at the flash of irritation in the other man’s eyes at the accent-gnarled name- Doffy. He’s a Doffy.

“A Duffy” Kieran states firmly, swallowing thickly before he’s shuffling away- unnerved by the usually unpredictable man’s sedation during the confrontation. Sean watches him leave, watches how his clothes that more resemble rags cling to him in the heat. A Duffy.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing to be.

* * *

“Didn’t burn the camp down? I’m impressed”

“Shut up Arthur- I wish someone’d shot your mouth off” he growls into his bottle, the brunet cackling to himself in the seat next to Sean’s, there’d been people filing into camp all afternoon, the women and Uncle first, all bringing boxes of fresh clothes and whatever Pearson had ordered into the camp. Sean ignored all of them- save for a sleazy one liner when Karen’d strut past him, the blonde eyeing off the bottle in his hand and giving him a look to suggest she was in a good mood for once. Then Swanson had stumbled into camp on a different horse to the one he left camp on and managed to barely dismount before passing out. Sean hadn’t even bothered moving him, just pretended he hadn’t seen.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Kieran the whole afternoon, not that he’d made and attempt to seek the boy out- just remained on his stool sipping his beer and watching as people filtered in and out around him. He listened to Uncle’s stories about his time in the Congo- listened to Javier play the soul out of his guitar and joined in when everyone else started singing along in a drunken warble.

He only left the spot because his bodily functions called for it, the redhead very much irritated to have to leave his seat knowing that more likely than not someone else was going to snap the spot up before you could say ‘I’ll be back.’

He threw his bottle to the ground with a dull thud, stumbling away to where the trees grew thick around camp, he almost tripped over roots and abandoned bottles as he went, swearing to himself as he tried to stay upright. When he finally found a quiet- sufficiently private spot, he relieved himself, letting his eyes slide shut and his head hang back, he could hear the faint singing of the camp from behind him, and let his mouth curl at the corners- it was godawful but you could bet your horse that nobody gave a damn, just folks having a right bloody time.

When he made his way back to camp, he let himself slow to a shamble, he wondered where Kieran was- he knew the O’Driscoll tended to hang back and hide himself with a bottle or two when the festivities were going on, but he thought maybe as the time went on he’d decide to at least try and mingle with others- try and make an effort to be seen as a friend or even just a drinking buddy for a night- no less. Sean shrugged, wasn’t business of his.

But what was business, was the pleading begs to be left alone that had slowly sunk into his ears, it was a real whiny voice- one that would make you go mad if left with the sound too long, but it was familiar, and when he swayed dangerously to face it, almost knocking himself off his feet in the process, he wasn’t shocked to find out what the source was.

Up at the scout campfire, surrounded by horses and lit by the small flame, Kieran was trying to fend off a most definitely pissed Bill, and he was failing.

“I know you boy- y’talk to the girls but I know you!”

“Mr Bill sir I really don’t know what you’re talking about- I don’t want no trouble now”

“I try my goddang hardest- I should’ve gelded you when you refused my drink!” Sean felt a blossom of red-hot anger in his chest- he wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t like he’d been the friendliest to the O’Driscoll as of recent, but something about seeing him so boxed in and scared made his blood boil hot.

“Bill! Y’ fuckn twat, get off him” he shouted, words slipping and tripping over each other in his mouth but his tone unmistakable.

“Is this the standard a man you wan’? I’d give you the ride of your life, boy!” if he was trying to be enticing, the harsh growl of his voice, and the threatening swing of his arms were fooling Sean pretty well- and it seemed Kieran shared the sentiment where he was backed against the fire.

“Bill for fuck sake!” Sean yelled, his feet lurching into movement as he charged towards the man- what he lacked in size of the other man he made up for in scrappiness. He charged hard, shoulder connecting with soft skin underneath the larger man’s pec’s, knocking him off balance and rendered void of air.

He hit the ground hard, and when he tried to get up the sheer amount of drink in his system took its toll, and instead he floundered about trying to grab at Sean, who’d backed both himself and Kieran away from the enraged man. He could feel Kieran’s hand at his elbow, grip tight and shaky and his breath warming a spot in between Sean’s shoulder blades.

“You hassle him again and I’ll cut your teeth out- show you some tricks the bounty hunters taught me” he threatened, and shook Kieran off, stalking over to Bill, who’d managed to get onto his knees, but was struggling to make it the rest of the way, and with a hard shove to the middle of the chest with Sean’s boot, he fell to the ground, shouting his lungs out and scrabbling at the grass but making no effort to get himself up.

When Sean returned to Kieran, he didn’t hesitate before grabbing the young man by the front of his shirt, practically dragging him across the camp until they reached his tent, a tent engulfed by the raucous singing around the campfire sitting only a few metres away.

He shoved Kieran down onto the Reverend’s sleeping bag, before marching off in a quest to find something to drink for the both of them- whiskey would do- whiskey would do just fine.

“Here- y’not gonna leave here until everyone else has buggered off- join in the festivities fer once” he grumbled, shoving the bottle into Kieran’s hands and patting him on the shoulder, the dark-haired man watched him carefully as the redhead sat down on his own sleeping bag, distracting himself from their closeness by opening his bottle and gesturing for Kieran to do the same.

“I-I don’t mean to be rude not joinin’ in, I jus feel like I don’ belong” he mumbled, opening the bottle but not taking a sip, eyes flickering around the small tent and out to where most of camp was gathered around the campfire.

“Shut it- none of us belong anywhere- tha’s why we’re here in the first place, Duffy” he huffed, swallowing a mouthful of the burning liquid with barely a flinch. He felt his skin heat at the way Kieran’s eyes lit up and his mouth curls at his name being on the Irishman’s lips. It was likely the first time he’d heard it in a long while.

They sat in relaxed silence for a long while, Sean leaving multiple times to get himself another bottle, Kieran only needing a second after Sean’s third trip. “By the time you start another your buzz will be gone- no bloody fun horseboy” Sean chided, shaking his head as he opened another bottle. he’d already been pleasantly buzzed when he’d saved Kieran from Williamson, and now laying here steadily pouring bottle after bottle into himself he was starting to really feel it.

“Am I your standard?” Sean asked, tilting back the bottle to his mouth and relishing the hot burn of it in the back of his throat as it went.

“U-uh pardon Mr Sean?”

“Bill said earlier- am I your standard?” when Kieran didn’t respond, instead taking a tiny sip of his drink Sean scoffed “course no,’ I suppose I don’t look too much like Morgan out there- bet he’s exactly your bloody type.” He wasn’t sure why he was so moody about it- Kieran was hardly the nicest piece of ass around camp, and those that were Sean had been with to some degree, Summers, Morgan, Karen, except that Gaskill, she was a slippery one she was, and knew exactly how to dodge a proposition. He didn’t mind, not now anyway.

“I’I don’t much have a type sir, I didn’t even know we was allowed to have a type for… for men”

“We may be savages, but we don’t much give a fuck who you like to stick it in” Sean explained, running a hand through his hair even though his fingertips were feeling a bit numb. He could see Kieran shift out the corner of his eye- surprise, shock and a little bit of relief, Sean understood the feeling.

“I-I guess I still don’t have a type, mister- just like those who treat me nice, don’t go around headbutting me for no reason and denying my help” Sean broke out into a harsh cackle at the other’s words, he was a fucking funny shit! He told Kieran as much and the dark-haired man blushed so hard Sean almost worried if he was okay.

“It was just nothing but a friendly hazing- you know how it is, Duffy!”

“No- I very much don’t” he sighed, and tapped his fingertip to the rim of the bottle, peering down into the contents of the glass, Sean smiled understandingly, nodding slightly before looking up to the sheet of stars above them, swallowing thickly- the singing had died out as others had gone to bed- or most of them anyway- Swanson and Uncle were both passed out by the fire. Only a few remained, the only sounds being the chirp of crickets, the lap of the lake on the shore and the soft tweaks of Javier’s fingers to his guitar.

“My type are the ones that save me from scary men and treat me like a part of a family I rightly have no part in- they’re the ones I like” Sean looked down as he rolled onto his side, braced on the elbow of the arm not holding the bottle, he could feel a coil of something that almost felt like nerves in the pit of his stomach, and when Kieran leaned forward he almost didn’t know what he was doing- the drink muddling his brain and making the world spin lazily around him.

Then he felt rough lips against his and smelt sweat and horse all around his senses and his bottle was forgotten, falling loose from his grip as he cupped a cheek. It wasn’t pleasant, but he couldn’t exactly say he was surprised.

They pulled back, and Sean swallowed thickly, staring at the other man long and hard, Kieran looked nervous, and he tried to smile but ended up looking instead like he was in pain, Sean wasn’t sure what to do- usually things like this were moving too quickly to think about anything else- it was always certain, they’d fuck and then they’d part ways until next time. But now, so close and fully clothed and Sean not so sure about his feelings and Kieran even more so, not knowing whether he actually wanted to bed the other and then leave him be. It was confusing to say the least.

“I-I’m sorry Mr Sean” Kieran stammered, shuffling back trying to put the distance between them in case Sean reacted different to however the hell he wanted him to react.

He didn’t answer, and instead found himself launching towards the dark-haired man before he could move any further. They connected with a clash, Sean smacking into Kieran with a hard thump and sending them sprawling, Kieran on his back and the redhead heavy on top of him, slotted between the horse boy’s legs that had flung out on contact.

Their mouths pressed uncomfortably hard against each other, and it was more teeth than anything else- Kieran had no clue what to do and that was obvious, but Sean was enthusiastic enough for the both of them, and he pawed at the others face, fingers sliding against lank hair and the other clutching at the skin stretched over his ribcage so tight that it felt like the bones were about to tear free.

“Mr- Mr I don’t very much… I don’t know what’s going on” Kieran breathed when he could break free from the ginger’s mouth for more than a moment, Sean hummed, slipping his mouth to Kieran’s neck- he could tell the other hadn’t washed for a while, could taste it in the sweat on the skin and the musky smell to his clothes- but when you lived rough like the gang so often did, you found yourself able to easily look past such menial details.

“Just stay there- watch and learn” Sean murmured against the flesh, letting his teeth graze the soft skin of his neck and suck at the jut of his Adams apple, Kieran writhing underneath him, clawing at Sean’s torso, nails digging into the fabric and the skin underneath, he could feel Kieran stiff against his thigh, hot and heavy and begging for attention, just begging for it, more Sean, more friction, more everything.

“Desperate” Sean hummed, letting a hand slip between them, he was only half hard himself, bit too pissed to be able to get it up properly, but he knew how to service a man, and if that’s what Kieran wanted, that’s what he’d get.

He cupped the outline in his palm, squeezing at it and rolling his own hips to try and draw out any and all noises he could from the man underneath him, like he could feed off the others pleasure. Kieran keened, trying to stay mindful of any other camp members still awake, and gripped painfully tight at Sean, hips shaking and bucking and rolling against the others hand like he was possessed, like the only thing on his mind was finishing, the only thing in the world was Sean on top of him and his cock in Sean’s hand.

“C’mon Duffy, c’mon Duffy, show me I’m your type” he pleaded, hand tight and moving quick against the erection through the tatty pants, doing what he could to try and get this man to the finish, to hear the noises, see his face when he finally reached a high that only physical contact could get him. He may have only had a vested interest in the man since today but like hell that was going to get in the way of providing a good time.

“Mr Sean sir, oh lord- y-you’re makin’ a mighty mess of me” Kieran’s face was flushed bright red, and his voice was worn, rough and sounding like it hurt to talk, his muscles were tense and loose at the same time, too close to climax to stay dedicated to being rigid but still making the valiant effort to do so with every slide of Sean’s hand.

“That’s the point Duffy” Sean huffs, and wonders for a moment when the last time Kieran got off was- he couldn’t imagine there were many lovely lasses (or lads) to be found with the O’Driscolls, and Kieran didn’t exactly exude the kind of confidence best suited to attracting suitors. He shook the thought off, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was right here and right now.

When Kieran peaks, his eyes fly shut, teeth gritting hard for a moment before his mouth falls open, heavy breathing filling the tent and Sean’s senses as he gives a few final tugs, pulling Kieran through the climax until the oversensitivity sets in and his wriggles of overwhelming pleasure turns into uncomfortable writhing at the touch on his sensitive member. Sean winces at the slightly unpleasant hotness covering his hands, he’s not quite sure what to do for a second, but then settles for wiping it on Kieran’s pants- it is his come, after all. The dark-haired man doesn’t say anything in disagreement about it, just hums, Sean looks out into the darkness of the camp, the only source of light from the two dwindling campfires, everyone was asleep, everyone except Kieran and Sean, the loudest person in camp and one of the quietest. He’d forgotten to close the tarp- to hide them, but as he’d said earlier- nobody paid much mind- at least, most didn’t- Dutch didn’t, and that was enough to keep everyone else’s traps shut. Sean swallowed thickly, he supposed there still was tomorrow morning, when he’d hear if anyone had seen them- they weren’t that loud- were they?

“Y-you wanna stay here the night? Can’t imagine there’s much left of it- but it’s much nicer here than…at your rock” despite everything, he still feels awkward to ask- it’s to soft, sound pitiful- Sean didn’t need company, didn’t need someone to cling to.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t relieved when Kieran said yes.


End file.
